Michael Deacon watches Lord Patten, chairman of the BBC Trust, tell MPs why he
gave George Entwistle a pay-off of £450,000 after just 54 days as
director-general.

No teenage boy wants to hear that the girl he fancies thinks he’s “sweet”. It’s a sure sign that she finds him about as sexually alluring as a My Little Pony bedspread, and that she assumes his mother still buys all his clothes for him.

In the same way, “a decent man” is the last thing an executive wants to be called, especially when he’s just lost his job. “A horrible man” would be better – at least that makes it sound as if he was strong, commanding, feared. But “a decent man”, in the circumstances, reeks of weakness and failure.

Today, as he was questioned by MPs about the BBC’s actions post-Savile, “a decent man” was what Lord Patten kept calling George Entwistle. “A decent man overwhelmed by a difficult job,” for example. And: “I’m not going to join in the trashing of a decent man.”

Anyone who does want to join in the trashing, however, will have been interested to learn that this same decent man, in his final hours as director-general, rejected a pay-off of six months’ salary, and instead (according to Lord Patten) demanded “12 months and more”. Lord Patten, as chairman of the BBC Trust, quickly surrendered 12 months’ worth (£450,000) in order to avoid an even costlier tribunal. A crushing victory for dear Mr Decent.

Today’s hearing, which dragged on for over two and half hours, would have been better as a straight fight between Lord Patten and Philip Davies, Conservative MP for Shipley and vehement critic of the BBC. Their exchanges were scornful, sarcastic, sniping, petty and, as a result, very entertaining.

The two fought with contrasting styles. Tirelessly pugnacious, Mr Davies yapped and snapped at his opponent’s ankles. (“Trust in the BBC has plummeted since you took over. Why don’t you resign?”)

Lord Patten favoured a tone of stately deadpan disdain, his voice dry as sherry. (“Am I allowed to finish? Good… You know what? I’m not sure this Socratic dialogue is getting us very far…”)

The highlight was when Mr Davies asked Lord Patten to provide a record of the number of hours’ work he did for the BBC. In reply, Lord Patten didn’t raise his voice, nor did his expression change (he simply carried on looking, as he always does, like a collapsed blancmange). But his words dripped with acid.

“Thoroughly impertinent question… If you think I’m going to do a diary for you… some populist pursuit of somebody you didn’t want to run an organisation which you don’t want to exist… kidding yourself…”

“Well,” began Mr Davies, when this long and withering harangue seemed at last to be over. “It’s…”